USUK - Fight by Day, Love by Night
by Rae'vyn Phiar
Summary: It's the Revolutionary War. Neither wants to kill, but neither wants to be killed. Neither want to shoot, or harm the other in any way, but sometimes you must pull the trigger. Short first chapter, long ass second. Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Rated M for blood, guns, and kissing.
1. Chapter 1

_Alright. I broke down and wrote emotional USUK. But it gets better, trust me. One or two chapters more if you'll bear with me. Hope you liked it anyway!_

_Thanks for reading, faving, following, and review please! Every review counts, and I like hearing your feedback! Even if it's just 'Wow! This was so good!', that makes my day and I __**love**__ you for it!_

_Sorry this one is kinda short. The second chapter is way longer. Sorry if you don't like reading. There really wasn't a way to cut them up without losing the plotline._

_Rated M for weaponry and threats and __**feels**__._

**USUK – Fight by Day, Love by Night – Chapter 1**

War is pointless when you fight with the ones you hold most dear. Brother against brother, father against son, lover against lover... When the sound of gunfire and cannons are still ringing in your ears, you cannot hear the screams of the dead and dying, no matter their affiliation with you.

Running away was his only option. Running away from the ones he held most dear, the dead and dying and the fallen whose screams pierced the frozen dawn. His breath created a fog in the early hours of the morning, blinding him in his the way through this forest. They'd been ambushed. That blue-clad, bespectacled brat...

'_No. Keep running. Don't let him catch up with you or you'll _die_, Arthur_.' His legs ached, his head pounded from the wound from the days before, inflicted by a bullet sailing past his flesh when one of his own men had jumped in front of the gun to save him.

'_Run faster!'_ He heard the pounding, even footsteps of the one he wanted to leave behind.

But it served no purpose, for Arthur knew that the taller blonde would catch up in mere seconds. Rifle in hand, he fell to a knee, cocking the firearm to his shoulder as the younger man stepped out of the brush, his own handgun pointed directly at his red-swathed chest. Both were trained and hardened enough to actually pull the triggers that were tight against their fingers if they needed to…

"If you want to try to stop me from stopping you, go ahead and shoot me."

Alfred only laughed at his remark. "I thought you were all for that English honor thing… Or was it that Chinese guy? It doesn't matter. Dying honestly wouldn't be the easiest thing I could do for you." He glared down at the man in scarlet red, the knowledge that he was leaving the only person he'd called 'brother' tearing him up inside. But he hoped his glasses defied the glimmer of shameful tears from his ancient sight.

Arthur only watched with blank green eyes as the younger man lowered his weapon and sheathed it at his hip. Then he was frozen with shock as the blue-garbed man took a step forward, the barrel of the rifle trembling in his hands digging into the place where his strong heartbeat shook the weapon.

"If you want to stop me… Then you'll have to shoot, Arthur." His hand tightened around the end of the barrel, keeping it level at his chest. "Because the thing you don't know is that I'm not going to stop. I'm never going to be that little boy you tore away from the others all those years ago. I'm never going to ask permission for my actions. I'm never going to ask you for help again. I'm an adult. I can be what and who I want."

Alfred's words stopped Arthur's thoughts. His utter hate for him was… He tore his gaze away for a second, staring at the barrel of his weapon. He could shoot him, sure, but it wasn't worth the pain of losing the one person that you… Who _was_ this defiant child to him…?

His eyes flashed bright blue, the only color that lit up the Englishman's world. Then they grew cold, cruel, and cynical, reflecting a hopeless, bloody world. They had become the way the elder never wanted them to be. His voice was even colder, monotone, as he spoke next.

"I don't need you anymore-"

With a single motion, his mind brimming over with a combination of anger, fatigue, and hysteria, the elder man pulled the trigger. He would do anything in his power to stop that child from defying him again. All he wanted to do was go home, stop the rebellion of his aging years, save this man from utter, powerful destruction.

The bullet flashed dull silver over the blonde's shoulder as he moved at the same time, a flick of red crossing his pale cheek. His sapphire eyes brightened as the lick of pain and the heat from the blood dripping down the side of his face poured adrenaline into every vein. The icy feeling caused a surge of power within the younger man, wrenching the gun from the elder's hands easily and grabbing his throat, slamming his back into a tree.

"I can't believe you'd try to shoot! It proves just how easily you think you can overpower me..." The fingers around the elder's neck shook as the younger man spoke, his eyes at the ground.

The hardened soldier had replaced the child at last. Drawing him out, the _true_ Alfred, would only break his heart further than it already was... But Arthur still spoke. "...I don't care if you think you don't need me... You'll end up crawling back one of these days-"

Arthur was silenced by a sharp flick of a shiny knife to his cheek, the thin cut dribbling blood down his face. He hard, cruel look on his little child's face shook him to the core. It was as if this act of revenge was a form of enjoyment for the blonde. He was limp in his grasp, knowing that that knife could easily sever the ties of life as easily as the bonds that the elder had woven carefully over the years.

"Like I said; I don't need you. I never will."

Then he simply dropped the man into a crumpled heap in the dirt and strode away, the crimson-garbed person's gun in his hands. Arthur wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, to say a confiding word to him, but he was too fast to move away.

All the boy needed was him, but the broken man had nothing left to offer other than bitter tears on this land that used to be his... but now belonged to the younger.

Why he kept pursuing that child, Arthur would never understand. It wasn't just to make him see reason, to give him a lesson in morality. It was to at least have someone on his side for once. Everyone and everything that had been loyal to him was gone, broken, shattered into so many pieces all around this hateful world that it seemed like he'd never pick up his life.

It wasn't just that... but it was to have someone in his life that he knew he could trust. To have that person he yearned for, even though he knew that they were both in the wrong... So wrong... It wasn't protection and guidance anymore... It was _love_ for that man that guided his actions to walk away from that place, to try again another day...

But he still cried all the way back.

The younger man kept walking away, trying to get as much distance between him and that place, that tree, that _man_, as possible. Walking turned into running, then sprinting as fast as he could. His leg caught on a tangling vine and he crashed to the forest floor with a cry, skidding several feet.

He curled up into a ball and hissed at the long slashes of pain in his legs and chest and the broken skin. In the past, the other man would've scolded him and then patched him up with care, smiling all the while. It'd been a long time since they'd smiled together like that. All smiles and happiness were lost in this place, never to be found again.

His heart could only handle so much more pain. _'Why... do I cut myself up and hurt him all the time...?' _ His mind raced, trying to find an answer that made sense, but found nothing but regret, sorrow, and the shreds of a life... a brother... a father... a lost _love_... that had been torn away.

And then Alfred allowed himself to finally weep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey! This one is LONG. Sorry 'bout that. Feels are fun to write. So is medicine. You'll get it if you read it._

_Thanks for reading, faving, following, and reviewing! Please send in requests! I'll write UsUk, GerIta, Spamano, any F.A.C.E. family thing, and other stuff. I'm sorta taking a bit of a step away from AkuRoku and Zemyx for now, but I'm still working on them I go on. Thanks for supporting me! I love you guys!_

_Rated M for blood, pain, feels, and kissing. Oh, and Alfred cries. Hope you like it, you __**feels**__ people! _

**USUK – Fight by Day, Love by Night – Chapter 2**

Why wasn't war simple? Dragging hearts, minds, and bodies into one formal organization for one simple cause was hard enough. But when your commander's heart is broken, there's nothing you can do but wait out the storm.

Arthur sighed, stretching out his cramped fingers from his pen as he finished up his report. He ran his eyes lightly over the slightly messy document and let it sit there to dry. Sending it this late would be a hassle, even though the others back home wanted to-the-minute correspondence. Bloody idiots.

A pang of something long forgotten suddenly stabbed him, bringing forth the bloody memories of the previous days. The blood, the metallic smell of bullets and gunpowder, the cries of dying men and whizz of the ball of metal that soared past his ear, missing him by mere millimeters.

But nothing could replace that utter feeling of despair, that sunken-in, burning ache that never seemed to cease its course. It made him feel much older than he was, and when it flared, the scorching memories of that time when his... when the man he loved like a son... brother... _lover_...

The blonde clutched at his chest as the tightening hold the pain within had on his heart clenched up, leaving him slumped in his chair. This was nothing physical; all emotional and mental, but it still hurt all the same. He gasped for air as he began to hyperventilate, his mind racing to try to end his suffering, but to no avail.

He remembered his tricks to slow his breathing, to calm down. _'In and out, Arthur. Breathe and it'll go away...'_ Eventually, he was able to sit up and relax, letting out a sigh as he worked his clenched hand from the fabric on the front of his jacket.

Suddenly, a small tap hit his ears, making him jump. The silence had gone on for so long that he'd forgotten where he was. It wasn't the sound of wood, of the door before him, but the window behind. He slid a hand inside his coat, gripping the small gun he always carried, and brought the candle lantern from his desk with him.

Coming closer to the window, he thought he saw something dark and dripping on the glass. When he brought the light closer, the crimson color was bold and bright, in the smeared form of a handprint. He looked at the grass outside and gasped, clapping a hand to the panes before him.

Alfred. He was lying on the earth outside, his eyes half-closed. Red stained the blue fabric that clothed him, creating a beautiful purple cloth that was all but attractive to the emerald-eyed man who tried not to scream for help. The frosted grass outside was painted as crimson as his skin, a dark blight of red-stained injury and death. Instead of crying out, he slid the window open silently and stepped into the night, lifting the man with blood-stained glasses.

"Hey..." That weak voice made Arthur want to cry. It was the voice of a broken man, someone who wanted nothing but compassion... But now wasn't the time for confessions.

The elder laid him in his own bed, not caring if the others saw the blood. "Don't talk!"

Alfred managed a weak smile as the other started cutting away his uniform. Raising a weakening hand, he cupped the man's cheek, leaving a bright streak of himself there as he brushed his thumb against his skin. "You... you actually came..."

It didn't take much thought for Arthur to say what he did next. His heart didn't hurt, so long as he knew the younger man was going to be okay. As long as he was with him, nothing could break him.

"Of course I did..."

He gasped as he cut the rest of the wounded man's shirt away. A long gash, red with both blood and muscle, white with the slivers of bone that peeked out from behind the flesh, still-fresh, ripped across his chest and torso, starting at the end of his right collarbone and ending at a wickedly jagged hook just above his opposite hip. However, it wasn't too deep. For that, Arthur was grateful.

"Is it... that bad?"

"I said don't talk. Please..." The elder blonde took off his jacket and rolled up his white sleeves. This uniform was ragged and patched anyway, so he wasn't worried about cleaning the younger man up. The color matched the blood on that torn-up boy before him, sickening him further. He was worried most about the pain that he'd bring by his healing, but he realized why Alfred had come to him. He needed someone more experienced, and the field physicians on his side of this war weren't skilled enough.

With a twinge in his heart, he realized the biggest reason why he'd come. Most of all, if he failed to help him, Arthur wanted this person to die silently in his arms rather than yelled at to stay awake by some common soldier.

"Sit up, if you can, just for a few seconds." Alfred did, cringing a bit, which nearly instantly drove the Englishman to help him. But he slapped his hand away, straightening his back and biting his lips so hard that they began to bleed as the other blonde cut the back portions of his uniform away. He needed to do this in his own strength.

When the elder was finished, he made the younger man lie back down as he bustled around the room quickly, gathering bandages and alcohol; scissors, thread and water. When he returned, he opened the bottle of alcohol and gave Alfred a worried, concerned look. But, in the underlying depths of those green irises, something flickered that the blue-eyed man couldn't place.

"You know this is going to hurt, right?"

"Yeah... But I've faced worse. Give me something to bite on." He forced his mind to shut down, to stop thinking as the elder placed a thick leather belt between his bleeding lips. Then fear and apprehension entered his mind as the man above him withdrew a washcloth and gazed down at him.

"Breathe slowly and deeply, as if you were sleeping, Alfred. Clear your mind and close your eyes. I'm here to help you, no matter how badly it might hurt at first."

They both screamed quietly as the first drop of the stinging liquid hit the length of the wound. The bespectacled man sank his teeth into the belt, leaving bite marks for sure as his back arched, his hands twining into the thin, blood-soaked sheets of the other's bed.

"Sir! Are you alright?!" A knock on the locked door sent shots of fear down the Englishman. If his comrades came in and found Alfred here, they'd kill him. The shivering man before him, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, didn't deserve such a fate.

"It's nothing. I merely hit my leg on the corner of my desk. Return to your post."

"Sir!"

Alfred was in agony for the first few minutes, a cold sensation quickly wiping the mind-numbing pain away. Past the film of painful tears, he saw Arthur working methodically to clean the wound with a wet washcloth, holding the edges of the gash together as he stitched the wound closed like a master.

Well, he had a reason to be good at this; the small hoop of wood with a lovely flowery pattern stitched into the white fabric in a basket next to his desk was the only proof Alfred needed. He'd always had a piece of embroidery with him back then too...

When the stitching was over, his breathing was normal, gazing up at the elder with a stare that the man couldn't figure out. He stayed like that until the last bandage was tied and cut as well, and finally Arthur found the will to speak.

"What is it?"

"No one back there... No one would've been so kind..."

Alfred leaned up a little, his injury no longer hurting as before, and pulled the elder into his embrace, unwilling to listen to this person's complaints about it.

"I'm sorry." His whispered words made the green-eyed man shiver. "I didn't mean what I said back then. At the tree, when I told you to shoot..." His hand cradled the back of Arthur's head, his body warm against his. His grip grew in intensity as his voice grew louder. "I don't want you to die! I don't hate you! I'm sorry, Arthur!"

He was crying like a child, the bloody idiot. But it was so like him to cry... He was a child at heart, and all he wanted was to be comforted and understood... Arthur wrapped his arms around his little Alfred's shoulders, feeling the shivers and trembling that shot through him.

"I know. I'm sorry too."

Alfred withdrew, gazing warmly into those knowing, ancient eyes, then pressed a hand to the side of his protector's cheek and kissed him with bloodied lips. Arthur was repulsed at the metallic taste of his blood at first, but then that feeling passed away, replaced by the tender softness of his chapped lips against his own.

"Mmph!" The elder man pushed against the younger man's shoulders, trying to wrench himself free of the blonde's lingering, roaming touch but not touch his healing wound. He knew that if he did, he'd only ever be an enemy in his eyes.

The sapphire-eyed man released him gently, the elder man's eyes brimming with confusion and awe. When he brushed away his messy bangs away from his emerald eyes, the man closed the twin jewels and sighed.

"Does it surprise you that all I wanted for all these years, that what I yearned for the most, was to hold you just like this? Your cute little Alfred was always wanting this, to feel your lips against mine and your pounding heart against my chest…" He laughed a little to himself, as if what he'd said was a joke, which only brought more confusion into the other man's eyes.

"You always… wanted this?" His answer was only another kiss, one that sent warmth spreading throughout him like a hot bath. Arthur found his hands clasped firmly at the younger blonde's shoulders, never wanting this to end. When a flick of Alfred's tongue against his lips broke the barriers, he allowed the odd sensation of his own tongue sliding against his to overwhelm his senses. He didn't think; he only acted.

"I don't hate you either…" He turned his head to the side, snaring the younger man's lips in a trap of his own as he felt cold hands all over him. It slowly but surely became too much when their breathing quickened, their bodies moving as one, writhing against each other in a not-unpleasant way. He knew they both itched for the other man, but Arthur still had his morality. "No… _No_, I said… _Alfred_…"

He stopped and found the younger man looming above him, his arms pinned above his head. Then he shook his head, his sapphire eyes warm, smiled brightly, and rolled over as Arthur scooted away, clutching at his bandaged chest a little.

"I went too far… Didn't I?" He sucked in a breath. "But I… I don't regret what I did."

"…Alfred…"

He smiled at the sound of his name, feeling the warmth of Arthur's body against his as he drew the man closer, like when he'd been a child. He was taller than him now, but it made no difference. He still felt like a kid when the older man held him like this. Their bodies felt so good, so _right_, pressed together like this…

He was surprised when the green-eyed man kissed him once, his lips whispering against his in a touch that made tingles spread throughout his body. He wanted more, but the man pressed a finger against his mouth, his eyes turning somber and adult again, but still maintaining some of the fiery love that he felt in the back of their forest tone.

"Go to sleep. You need sleep to heal. You can stay here for now, until you're alright to ride. I won't let anything happen to you… I promise…"

"Yeah…" As the last wink of sleep met enter his mind, Arthur heard only one last thing from the half-asleep man in his arms. "I love you…"

He kissed his forehead and settled his head in the crook of Arthur's neck, where he felt the steady pulse of his heart against his cheek. His light breathing against the emerald-eyed man's neck made him shiver the first few times, his arms unconsciously tightening around the form beside him.

"I love you too…"

As he drifted off, he thought one last thing.

Why is the only solution war? Why not love? Why do people take their love and turn it into hate? Why can't you love the people you fight against?

And the world ceased to exist for him and his beloved.


End file.
